Penumbra

 

Flecks of colour in the night
Flickers of motion beyond sight.
The glory of memory
Of you and me. Of you and me.
Repetition of this ceremony

Beneath the waves of this sanctuary.
With a touch as cold as the altar stone
And bed a barren ocean where I lay alone
Within this dark. Where outside lights
Dance and tease just out of sight.

No heart’s comfort now you have gone
The hearth is cold within this home,
And in the garden flowers might
Crumble to dust; in this world turned black and white.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

StarRise

photo credit: Pascal Volk Explosia [Explored 2016-08-22] via photopin (license)

photo credit: Pascal Volk Explosia [Explored 2016-08-22] via photopin (license)


The silence of this season
Completes me.
The Night holds me in her arms,
The darkness drapes her body:
Caresses my feeling in the coldness
Of her ebony being.
I plunge into the heart of her,
And in falling I shine.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Last Dance

Another year of blogging nearly gone by and here’s a poem from last November to kick off my annual review of some of my personal favourites from the last year.

Made of sticks and stones

Image from DeviantArt: http://jp13jp.deviantart.com/art/Ultima-danca-last-dance-367967150 Image from DeviantArt: http://jp13jp.deviantart.com/art/Ultima-danca-last-dance-367967150

And the lights go down
Night after night
And the orchestra
Go home to their beds.
And in the early hours
When I am alone
I wonder
If I should’ve asked you to dance.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Night in Shining Armour

The night in shining armour
Rediscovers my moonlit memories.
How the mighty are humbled
When uncovered by the moonbeams.
Treasure of my beating heart
A taste of your honey lips,

The forgetting that happens
When we’re together.
The wasted hours
When we’re apart

And I long for wine and song again.
Safe, with you in my arms.
Sí, mi amor. Sí, mi amor.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

A Dot on the Screen

A dot on the TV screen
Disappearing into infinity,
The lights blinking out.
4am, insomnia rules.

Outside the closed curtain
The fox roams the street alone
As the approaching dawn
Creeps closer. The night time is ending

A new day is descending.
Skeletal hands squeeze tighter
Around the throat of the world,
The dark breathes its last.

Fox scuttles away for the shelter of the shadows
A nocturnal creature immune to the lure
Of the beckoning day.
The great pretending that awaits

My sleepless body.
I think of the fox asleep in her den
As I splash ice water onto my face
Washing away the pretence of sleep from my eyes.

How happy for her
To escape into the earth
Away from the pain exposed
To the scrutiny of the sun.

The make-believe world of the insomniac
Of having to say “I’m okay”, when I’m not.
When I know if I could only sleep
There’d be a chance I could dream this pain away.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Shipwrecked

Shipwrecked

To the night another soul
shipwrecked on the rocks.

For the night’s not over
‘til all hearts are lost.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 13 January 2015

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Smugglers’ Cove

The boat slips anchor
While the just man sleeps, and
The moon looks away.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

While it thunders outside

Day 20

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: Closer via photopin (license) photo credit: Closer via photopin(license)

Kiss me on the lips,
I’ll hold you in my arms
‘til the night has calmed.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Urban Symphony

Here goes with Day 8

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit:  via photopin (license) photo credit: via photopin(license)

Like so much flotsam

Cut adrift by the city.

Wanders lost, soulless eyes

That no longer see.

A cacophony of voices

As unintelligible as the blaring

Of sirens and car horns,

Screaming constantly,

Endless soundtrack

To yet another sick dream.

Twisted reality, neon coated,

Drives its stake through night’s heart.

 

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Last Dance

And the lights go down
Night after night
And the orchestra
Go home to their beds.
And in the early hours
When I am alone
I wonder
If I should’ve asked you to dance.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.